


You

by mirrorsontheceiling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, F/F, F/M, Harry Potter is Not the Boy-Who-Lived, M/M, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Slytherin Harry Potter, Social Media, actually dont i have noodle arms and i cry easily, an excuse to write draco fucking malfoy as many times as i can, fight me, not canon compliant at all lol, writing as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-08 20:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirrorsontheceiling/pseuds/mirrorsontheceiling
Summary: Harry honestly never expected to have so much drama over one fucking bag. Well-- It was actually quite an amazing bag, his mum stitched his name on it and everything, but! It was literally just cloth holding his books! So, when a mixup happened and Harry suddenly had the King of Scream's schoolbag, he melted.Like, we need a mop on Aisle Four, because he won't fucking move. Shock does stuff to you, I guess.----In which Harry and Draco are oblivious idiots(as always), Neville is actually the chosen one, and Ginny just wants some fucking chocolate. Also the author uses the word 'fuck' too much, whilst incorporating as many cliches and tropes as she can.





	1. An Awesome Bag

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i started another wip. fight me. i sorta have this planned out, like generally, but im mostly winging it. if you wanna go scream and cry with me, im @starstruck-universally on Tumblr.
> 
> so if y'all wanted to know, harry and his motorcycle gang are in sixth year, while draco and his granny gang are in seventh. theres a difference for a plot reason shhhhh
> 
> i really fucking love tropes and i have literally no romantic experience at all, so im projecting onto these characters. they don't deserve to deal with my messes, but guess what? i already wrote like two chapters hahahahhahahahha kill me
> 
> dont actually kill me, i still need to write this

Running a hand through his hair tiredly, Harry trudged towards the table he normally met his friends at. He rose an eyebrow at the lack of Ron and Hermione, but shrugged and plopped down onto one of the seats, dropping his bag on the table. He sighed and dug through the bag for his Potions book and spare parchment, internally grumbling over the amount of homework Slughorn gave them. Honestly, it was as if that man never heard of a social life. Harry finally managed to find a quill hidden deep in the recesses of the bag, thankfully not bent too much. Too many quills had managed to get bent or snapped in his horrid bag.

Hearing a large smack from beside him, Harry looked up and smiled at Hermione as she sat down. She gave him a small smile and started to organize her own books,"Hello, Harry. Are you actually doing your Potions homework for once?" At this, he let out a small laugh.

"As it turns out, you fail Potions if you don't actually do the work." He grinned,"Where's Ron?" He tapped his fingers on top of the table impatiently, one of his many bad habits. Harry hadn't seen the boy since that morning, and even then, it was just barely a glimpse.

At this, Hermione blushed a bright red color and this was when Harry noticed the disarray of her clothes and her messy hair. He sighed playfully and shook his head,"You two are rabbits, I swear. He got caught by Filch leaving the broom closet, right?" Hermione nodded reluctantly with a sheepish grin and Harry let out another chuckle. It wouldn't have been the first time this exact situation happened.

Quickly, she seemed to come back to her senses. Clearing her throat, she rose an unamused eyebrow at him,"Let's get to work, shall we? Now, I think we're onto Memory Potions...?" Hermione cracked open the assigned book. You could pinpoint the exact moment when Harry lost his will to live.

***

Harry rested his head on the table,"I am now brain dead. Tell my mother I loved her and tell Ron he gets my gobstones collection. I would also like lilacs and sunflowers at my funeral, no matter of how much they clash. Uncle Sirius gets to throw books at the people I didn't." He dramatically swept his arm across the table, accidentally knocking his books off. He winced and shrugged apologetically at nearby students.

Hermione let out a small giggle,"At least you're done with your homework, right? Up, up, up, you have to walk me up to Ravenclaw Tower or Ron'll have a fit. Maybe if we're lucky, you'll manage to get back to the dungeons before curfew." She stood up, her bag already slung over her shoulder and held out a hand to Harry. He lazily swatted it away, before standing up himself.

Covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned, he grabbed his own bag and adjusted it on his shoulder. He pocketed his wand, before gesturing with his head towards the doors,"Then, shall we go, my lady?" Harry made sure to dramatically bow and hold out his hand to Hermione.

She rolled her eyes, but linked their arms together,"C'mon, I don't have all day, also your bag is horrendous. You really need to get a new one, or I'll just get you one for Christmas."

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Harry leaned against Hermione,"But 'Mione! Mum stitched the Slytherin insignia on the side of it, with my name in cursive! It's made with loooveee!" His smile grew wider when she pushed him off with an exasperated groan.

Harry grinned and led her away. They chatted about trivial things like schoolwork and general gossip around the castle, as he walked her to the Tower. He was honestly so grateful to be friends with her and Ron, he wasn't sure if he would've survived this long without them. He never really got along with the other Slytherins and he was too awkward to make any friends, so it came to be a great surprise when Ron still acknowledged him as his best friend after the sorting. Although, knowing each other since childhood and having both of their mothers metaphorically breathing down their backs probably helped.

He still could remember plopping down next to Ron at the Gryffindor table, to the surprise of both of their houses, and immediately started teasing him about his appetite. He remembered pushing Ron to go talk to the cute Ravenclaw girl in Third Year, becoming friends with said Ravenclaw in the middle of that year, having heated debates about Wizard Chess with Ron, eating lunch next to the Black Lake with the both of them, admitting his bisexuality and getting comforted by the couple, and other such pleasant memories.

Still swimming in his memories, Harry hardly noticed when Hermione bid him goodbye, nor when he began walking back to the dungeons. He hummed a small tune he heard from somewhere, probably his Uncle Sirius' muggle rock radio, and briefly closed his eyes. He breathed in and out, just enjoying the soft ambiance of the moment. This was all ruined when he ran into someone and promptly fell on his ass.

Hearing a soft groan, Harry opened his eyes and looked up to see Draco Fucking Malfoy, one of the Slytherins in the year above him. He paled immediately, and started to apologize weakly, knowing he fucked up. He fucked up badly. One does not simply run into Draco Fucking Malfoy, even if that person was another Slytherin. There was a saying one of the older Slytherins said when Harry was a First Year; Nobody and everybody is your friend in Slytherin. The older student also happened to get expelled for selling some illegal plants with hallucinogenic qualities to some Hufflepuffs.

None of that mattered now! All that mattered was the fact that Harry was still sitting on the cold stone floor of the entrance to the Dungeons, staring wide-eyed at Draco Fucking Malfoy, who happened to not be murdering him at the moment. He held his hand out to Harry and, honestly, Harry had no idea what was going on, but he was exuberant that he didn't have his entrails hanging out of his stomach by now.

Gulping lightly, he took the hand offered and he was pulled up without much gusto. Harry immediately let go and started to brush off his robes absentmindedly, trying to keep his expression neutral. His hands clenched onto the folds of his robes and he looked down, waiting for the other to reprimand him or _something_.

Harry was pleasantly surprised once more when the other boy merely cleared his throat,"If you would move out of the way?" He gladly stepped out of the way and watched Draco Fucking Malfoy practically strut down the hallway, robes swirling and head held high. It was as if he owned the hallway and Harry wouldn't honestly be surprised if he did have some hallway dedicated to him somewhere in the castle. Dumbledore did weird things like dedicate hallways to families and students that helped to rebuild the castle.

Sighing in relief, he slumped down against the wall. He flopped his hand around for his bag and managed to somehow grab it, despite the fact he looked like a beached whale. Harry wasn't sure he could handle anymore social contact, especially with a scare from the King of Scream. Hehe. King of Scream. Harry would have to remember that or write it down, he's a genius.

He didn't notice his bag didn't have the Slytherin emblem stitched on the side.


	2. Two Sides of the Same Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These two need to learn the phrase, "You get what you get and you don't throw a fit."
> 
> Seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to my new beta sydster999 for reading this over and correcting me!
> 
> alsosorryfortakingsolongimamessiknow

Yawning into his sleeve, Harry groaned and leaned against Ron at the Ravenclaw table. Hermione rolled her eyes from across the table and continued to spread jam over her toast, "Maybe try going to sleep earlier and then you won't be moaning about how tired you are." She took an aggressive bite into her toast.

Ron stifled a laugh, shaking Harry off of his shoulder as he did so, and grinned at the girl, "Then who would our Harry be without being sleep-deprived? It'd be a bloody miracle if he could manage to sleep before ten!" The redheaded boy grinned at him mischievously, reminding Harry of a certain uncle. 

Harry snorted and pushed the other boy's shoulder, before leaning over to steal Hermione's coffee. He cringed at the lack of any kind of sugar and poured a generous amount of cream into the cup. He began to stir it with a spoon and gave a sleepy smile at the sight of Hermione's disgusted expression. The black-haired boy took a long sip and smacked his lips together, "Rest assured, I will probably be found taking a nap in the Astronomy Tower this afternoon. This coffee is horrible, by the way. Pass me the sugar?"

Rolling his eyes playfully, Ron pushed the sugar bowl closer to Harry, "In my own opinion, coffee is disgusting either way." This was met with two blank stares and he held his hands up in surrender, "What! I'm just stating my opinion!"

Letting out a small sleep-deprived giggle, Harry rested his elbow on the table as he stirred in a generous amount of sugar into his stolen coffee, "Ron, why are we still friends?" He snatched a treacle tart off of a nearby plate and took a big bite. He then downed almost half of Hermione's coffee. Yup, he would feel that come back and bite him on the ass later.

***  
After almost half an hour of playful bickering and a minor spill, the two boys of the trio stood up from the breakfast table and began walking to Charms together. They were only two minutes late after one of the staircases abruptly moved, but Harry was sure that was the fastest time they managed to get to Charms this semester. Those stairs were an actual menace and probably a health hazard, if you thought about it closely.

Luckily, almost half the class was late, as usual. This, however, didn't stop Harry from forgetting to take his materials out until five minutes after Flitwick began to actually teach. Hey, it couldn't be said that he was perfect, despite Harry's _absolutely stellar_ grades in Divination and _observant_ personality. That was Harry being sarcastic, by the way.

Shaking his head to rid himself of his thoughts, Harry blinked once, twice. He stooped down to rummage through his bag for his usual bent quill. Harry stopped in the middle of his tracks when he found a poncy, extravagant peacock feather quill and embellished parchment, instead of the usual stained loose-leaf paper and half-dried bottles of ink he kept.

Now that he thought about it, the bag looked different, too. His bag and this bag were the same shade of light brown, but this one had a decorative buckle on the side, and another strap to hold onto the bag like a briefcase? Oddly enough, golden embroidered circles with connected lines littered the bag's interior, almost like constellations or a connect-the-dot picture. Catching a glimpse of the corner of a book, Harry's eyebrows furrowed in thought. He carefully pulled the cover up a little to read the title.

He let out a small groan at the sight of seventh-year books and let go of the book, the book in turn making a small _thump_ as it fell into the bag. He turned to Ron to ask for a quill and parchment to spare. They could just share a book and an inkwell while he tried to figure this out, right? Harry wasn't quite sure when he suddenly acquired a schoolbag full of seventh-year supplies and fancy-ass quills... Maybe he accidentally switched with somebody at the Ravenclaw table? Or one of his dorm-mates were playing a trick on him? Wouldn't be the first time, honestly.

It wouldn't do well to just worry about the issue. As Harry had once read from that one book by Newt Scamander; "Worrying just means suffering twice." That man was a genius. An absolute genius. As anybody could probably tell, he's still sleep deprived as fuck.

Oh well! He will just settle for using a fancy peacock feather for a quill, then he'll grill the others after class. He could probably brag about using the feather and totally being fancier than Ron, mwahaha! 

Then, hopefully get his bag back?

***

He made a loud sound of disgust and held the-- the _bag_ far away from him. Draco couldn't fucking believe his luck. You'd think he would notice the large mishappen snake embroidered on the side, right? Wrong. Pansy was a force to be reckoned with, and the Slytherin boy only slightly regretted charming those beetles to crawl into her bed. _Slightly_ being the key word here, because her shrieks of horror were definitely worth it. Even if he had to pack such an unpleasant bag around and try to find the owner. She was certainly behind this all. Pansy knew he hated disgusting, foul things.

And this, was a disgusting foul thing.

For one, the cloth of the bag was absolutely _covered_ with an innumerable amount of stains, most of which Draco could not possibly recognize. Secondly, it was literally falling apart at the seams. He observed the many patches adorning the underside of the schoolbag. This caused the corners of the blond's mouth to turn down slightly. Lastly, the odor _reeking_ out almost caused him to gag. He scrunched up his nose and carefully placed the bag down on the library chair next to him.

Looks like Draco won't be able to study until he finds the owner of this retched abomination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> important question; what do y'all think posters would think about if they could think?
> 
> ginny my homegirl's gonna come up next, then hopefully some actual plot will come into motion
> 
> also i've been listening to the song la vie en rose a lot recently??? idk man, it's really catchy
> 
> that aside, if there's anything you guys wanna see on this fic, or any questions, or whatever, my tumblr is @starstruckuniversally , BUUUt, I made a writing blog finally! My writing blog is now @loud-crying . I'm legitimately surprised nobody took that username until now.

**Author's Note:**

> so theres my trash  
> i like need a beta. and maybe friends. but mostly a beta, so message me on tumblr or something if you wanna deal with typos and plot holes?
> 
> anyways i love these two and harry totally has a man-bun
> 
> i need to stop with these super ranty and jumbled up notes.
> 
> just as a weird question; ketchup, mayo, or frysauce? im originally from utah(although i escaped!), dont judge


End file.
